“THE PIRATES MADE A MAD DASH DOWN THE ROUGH, ROCKY HILL-SIDE”
“What’s happened to you?” cried Bonaparte, ordering the sailors to back water, lest the pirates should too hastily board the boat and swamp her.
“We are marooned,” replied Kidd, “and on an island of a volcanic nature. There isn’t a square inch of it that isn’t heated up to 125 degrees, and seventeen of us have already evaporated. Conrad has lost his reason; Abeuchapeta has become so tenuous that a child can see through him. As for myself, I am growing iridescent with anxiety, and unless I get off this infernal furnace I’ll disappear like a soap-bubble. For Heaven’s sake, then, General, take us off, on your own terms. We’ll accept anything.”
As if in confirmation of Kidd’s words, six of the pirate crew collapsed and disappeared into thin air, and a glance at Abeuchapeta was proof enough of his condition. He had become as clear as crystal, and had it not been for his rugged outlines he would hardly have been visible even to his fellow-spirits. As for Kidd, he had taken on the aspect of a rainbow, and it was patent that his fears for himself were all too well founded.
Bonaparte embarked the leaders of the band first, returning subsequently for the others, and repaired with them at once to the Gehenna, where they were ushered into the presence of Sherlock Holmes. The first question he asked was as to the whereabouts of the House-boat.
“That we do not know,” replied Kidd, mournfully, gazing downward at the wreck of his former self. “We came ashore, sir, early yesterday morning, in search of food. It appears that when—acting in a wholly inexcusable fashion, and influenced, I confess it, by motives of revenge—I made off with your club-house, I neglected to ascertain if it were well stocked with provisions, a fatal error; for when we endeavored to get supper we discovered that the larder contained but half a bottle of farcie olives, two salted almonds, and a soda cracker—not a luxurious feast for sixty-nine pirates and a hundred and eighty-three women to sit down to.”
“That’s all nonsense,” said Demosthenes. “The House Committee had provided enough supper for six hundred people, in anticipation of the appetite of the members on their return from the fight.”
“Of course they did,” said Confucius; “and it was a good one, too—salads, salmon glacé, lobsters—every blessed thing a man can’t get at home we had; and what is more, they’d been delivered on board. I saw to that before I went up the river.”
“Then,” moaned Kidd, “it is as I suspected. We were the victims of base treachery on the part of those women.”
“Treachery? Well, I like that. Call it reciprocity,” said Hamlet, dryly.